Week 19 was a big one. Old Man River had approximately 9 billion night time activities, including 8th grade introduction night and two separate awards ceremonies for seniors, so Liv and I held the fort down and did tennis, softball, more tennis, dance (where they are doing endurance training for feis season, so she basically repeats an 8-12 second dance for an entire 3 minute song...hehe, she was exhausted), and then ended with softball.
Needless to say, Friday night she was pulverized, as were we. But, rather than hunker down at home, ignore the heat and people, and stay in the air conditioning all day, we rallied and spent early Saturday at the beach, running Luna and playing Smashball, despite the wind which made it the coldest seventy degrees I've felt in a long time. While everyone else was searching the rocks for something that must have been super impressive and rare or fun or just Pokemon, we walked a ways down the endless sand, planted ourselves against the wall, and watched the tide go out.
The labragoat might have had the most fun, running, burying herself in the sand, and chasing driftwood only to chew it to smithereens before running back without it. She's a real retriever, that one. Liv and Jan had a rather competitive game of Smashball, one that I quickly bowed out of because if there is one thing they both like to do, it's instruct me how to use my paddle. Duck off, the both of yas.
Because we're us, we were leaving the beach as the miles of traffic was dropping in, already on our way to our early afternoon happy hour at 4 Spirits, home before six to eat breakfast burritos and jump on the trampoline with the sprinkler.
And then this morning, although most people were primping for brunch and wine tastings if the crowd at Trader Joe's was any indication, Old Man River and I left Liv home to watch Scooby Doo with Luna and do laundry while we took a mountainbike ride. The scenery at Chip Ross was beautiful, even if my riding wasn't. It was kind of like a mother's day, father's day, because when my bike stopped shifting properly, or when I overshifted (potayto, potahto), Old Man River got to take it for a spin and mansplain all the intricacies of shifting and movement, yadda yadda. Since I know he likes nothing more than a good explanation on what should be something obvious, we both won. (On that note: to the woman who saw me struggling up the loose gravel incline because my bike wasn't shifting properly, I cannot express my deep gratitude for the way you suddenly grabbed the back of my seat like I was an oversized toddler and gave me a shove, urging me on as I slugged my way rather gracelessly up the first stretch. You're a hero. And I appreciate you.)
We were dead at the end, but I'd like to report that I only unloaded a few cuss words on unsuspecting walkers as I rounded a corner, and I did not, in fact, go ass over handlebars even once. This, my friends, is essentially a record. (Yes, I am that aggressively bad sometimes. But not today. Today, I was only partially bad, and I did not fall. Killing it.)
And for the final act of this brilliant mother's day weekend, after another round of the trampoline and sprinkler, and then a nap, I took down a large pepperoni pizza from Papa's and binged some Will Trent with my family. The. Best. Day.
To all of the moms in my life: Jude, Nonnie, Rachel, Bri, La, Mari, Debbie, and all of the rest of you--I hope you had not just a day, but an entire weekend to remember why this crazy life you live is the best. And I hope you know that even bloated with pizza and exhausted from being out of shape, I love you, appreciate you, and admire you. And I am always thinking of you.
Happiest week 19, loves. Week 20 should be more of the same, and even in this godforsaken heat that has taken over the PNW, I am going to remember to enjoy and live in gratitude for the softball fields, dance studios, and tennis courts where I get to watch my Livvy-Love be a little extra and a lot happy.
Talk soon. xoxo
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